


Sentiment Isn't Always a Defect

by Laurel_Trancy



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes in the 22nd Century
Genre: John Hamish Watson - Freeform, John Watson - Freeform, Johnlock - Freeform, Johnlock Fluff, M/M, Sherlock Holmes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 03:10:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1167948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurel_Trancy/pseuds/Laurel_Trancy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John has been living with Sherlock for months now, and his feelings are starting to get the better of him... What will happen when John has had enough, and decides to confess his feelings for his isolated and introverted flatmate?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sentiment Isn't Always a Defect

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fanfiction, so any criticism or comments are very much appreciated!  
> (try to be nice though! :P)

The damp snow was falling delicately onto the cold cement outside the apartment of 221B Baker Street. Sitting on the worn, comfy, leather chair, John Watson sat quietly, drinking a steaming hot mug of earl grey tea~ awaiting the return of his constant companion; Sherlock Holmes. John slowly caressed the handle of his porcelain mug, imagining Sherlock's smooth supple skin beneath his fingertips. He sat brooding, wearing his favorite cable-knit sweater (a gift from Sherlock), and his dark, denim jeans. It had been roughly 5 months since John had realized his feelings for the consulting detective, and with Christmas soon approaching, he pondered weather or not to confess his feelings for his best friend, and confidant...

As John sat, silently reasoning, he heard a key rattling in the door. Sherlock slipped inside of the warm flat, his curls softly bouncing as he shook the quickly melting snowflakes out of his chocolate brown hair.  
"Evening John," Sherlock murmured as he undid the blue scarf that was wrapped tightly around his slender neck, "It was a particularly tedious case today... And I daresay that I am in need of some relaxation. Perhaps my violin will help these tense muscles...” John gazed at Sherlock in the dim light of their small flat. The way his muscles rippled under his deep, royal purple, dress shirt was titillating to John, and made his stomach tingle with desire.

"I'm sorry to hear that your day was a bit rough," Muttered John, "I wish there was something I could do to help you release the tension."

" Don't be silly John, what could you possibly do?" Sherlock Questioned, raising an eyebrow, "You're hardly a talented masseuse..." John's eyes connected with Sherlock’s, and he gazed deeply into the azure orbs that glowed subtly in the lamplight.  
"I think you underestimate me, Sherlock.... I really do..." John tried desperately to hide his anxiety, as well as his deep-rooted feelings for his companion, "Excuse me for a moment." He stood quickly, and walked deliberately into the bedroom: closing the door swiftly behind him.

As soon as he entered the small, solitary confines of his bedroom, John took a deep breath and leaned back on the door. His heart raced, and thought about the feelings he harbored for Sherlock. He knew that this man, who undoubtedly knew his deepest fears and secrets, was the one person that he could not live without, and would not live without. He needed to let Sherlock know how he felt, and he needed to do it now, before his cowardly heart betrayed him as it had before: disallowing him to let Sherlock know how he felt in previous months.

John tried desperately to mentally prepare himself for what he was about to do. Sighing with resignation, he faced the fact that whether or not Sherlock would return his affections, he was going to make certain that Sherlock knew how he felt about him. He was going to state that he was irrevocably in love with the private and reserved man sitting just feet away, relaxing and trying to work out the kinks in his sore muscles.

John hastily fumbled with his belt buckle, his pants pooling around his ankles. He shuffled them off, and tugged at the bottom of his sweater, pulling it up around his head, revealing the gunshot wound from a Jezail bullet on his left shoulder. The injury had long since healed, but the sight of the blemish on his tanned skin still brought memories flooding back into his mind from his time in the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers. Fixing his mussed hair, he dropped the cream sweater on the cool hardwood floor, and walked towards the full-length mirror situated in the corner of the room. Although he had given up on strenuous sports long ago, his daily exercises had kept his muscles toned and firm. Though short in stature, John Watson was well built, and he had never been ashamed of his body. As he stood looking at himself in the mirror, wearing nothing but cerulean blue briefs, he felt as prepared as he ever would be to face Sherlock, and bare his insecurities, more than he had already.

He strode over to the door, and placed one hand against the chilled wooden doorframe, he shivered and slowly turned the metal door handle. He opened the door barely enough to see a shirtless Sherlock stretching his arms behind his head; his languid movements displaying his sculpted trapezius muscles perfectly. John stood still, he watched his flat mate stretch. He was truly beautiful... John felt a wave of insecurity wash over him. How undeserving he was of this other man's love, how foolish he was to believe for even a second that Sherlock would accept John in whole; body, mind, and spirit. John began to shut the door one more when he heard Sherlock's smooth voice drift towards him.  
"Don't go John... Come here." Sherlock turned his head just enough to catch a glimpse of the bedroom door cease it's movement towards closure, and slowly swing open. Not a word was spoken between the two as Sherlock turned, and looked fixedly at John standing, bare, in front of him. His eyes trailed appreciatively up and down John's body as he stepped closer to the smaller man. John looked apprehensive as his eyes too gazed upon Sherlock's chiseled torso. He closed the bedroom door behind him and leaned back against it, pressing himself into the gelid wood as Sherlock traced closer to him. This was it; this was the moment he had been waiting for all this time: his Acceptance or rejection. His heart throbbed in his chest as the space between him and his striking roommate narrowed.

Sherlock stood approximately one foot away from John. His cobalt eyes stared intently into the other man's, as a cat would gaze at its prey. John felt a shiver run through his body as he felt Sherlock's eyes upon him, pressing farther backwards, Sherlock's hand came to rest on the door beside his head, allowing Sherlock to lean forward, closing the gap between their faces.

"Don't be nervous," Sherlock whispered, moving closer yet,” I love you John; I've loved you since the moment I met you. You may believe that you are undeserving of my attentions, but in truth, I am undeserving of yours... Stay with me John... Just the two of us against the world..."

 

This is your heart

 

Sherlock bowed his head in admittance to his own sentiment, and then raised his sapphire orbs to meet John's once more. John leaned forward, desperate to embrace the man that he loved, and that man that he now knew loved him back. He pressed his own lips against Sherlock’s soft warm ones. Their lips molded together as the kiss became more forceful. The return of his affections by Sherlock only served to make him melt, and fall deeper into the embrace. Their lissome bodies intertwined as they shared their impassioned kiss. 

Never had an embrace felt more right, and never again would they feel they way they did that night with another person. As they both gave way to their emotions, they held each other close, as the darkness of nighttime slowly and gently enveloped the small, quiet apartment of 221B Baker Street...


End file.
